


Episode 7: Acme, New Mexico

by DangersUntoldHardshipsUnnumbered



Series: The Canyon's Arms Are All We Know [7]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 16:14:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19066129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangersUntoldHardshipsUnnumbered/pseuds/DangersUntoldHardshipsUnnumbered
Summary: Alex encounters Astra's roadside vegetable stand. It's Route 70 from Alex's POV. And with more smut.  :)Also I've created a playlist to go along with this series, it's meant to be what Alex's radio show would have sounded like.https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLSzT1iLO1-_WyN9MBHANT87rOuOJDiumS





	Episode 7: Acme, New Mexico

LAST CHANCE TEXACO

Alex saw the billboard by the roadside that bore nothing but the Texaco gas logo and those words, and chuckled to herself. _Like the Rickie Lee Jones song_ , she thought with amusement.

A little while later, she rode past a Texaco station.

She glanced at her meter.She was pretty low. Maybe she should go back and fuel up again. But she’d been encountering filling stations often enough. She’d just hit the next one.

Since she left Vegas, she’d been taking a meandering tour of the Southwest. She’d seen the Giant Lumberjack statue and the reconstructed London Bridge in Lake Havasu City. She enjoyed that; the girl from England, California visiting the London Bridge in Arizona. She’d driven past the Wigwam Motel and the Flintstones’ Bedrock City in Flagstaff. She’d stopped and taken some selfies at the meteor crater and Rooster Cogburn’s Ostrich Ranch there, too. Gallup brought her to the big statue of the Navajo Code Talker and the inexplicable giant metal loop that looked like it belonged on a Hot Wheels track.

She texted J’onn: _So did aliens leave the big metal loop in Gallup?_

He wrote back: _I have no idea. Ask AAA._

The last time she’d called home, Eliza was cheerful and sounded relaxed. Clark had been taking Kara flying and bringing her out places where he could help her work with her powers. Kara had yanked the phone out of Eliza’s hand and said, “Alex is in Braavos?”

Alex had laughed. “Nope. Now I’m in Santa Fe. I saw the biggest pet rock lizard in the world. I’ll send you a picture.”

Kara giggled. “Rock lizard?” She started making guitar noises and singing the opening bars of “Iron Man.” Alex knew her sister’s mind well enough to know she was picturing a lizard playing rock music. She decided not to disabuse her of the notion.

“I’ll send pictures later,” she promised.

She’d felt a strange twisting in her chest that everyone was doing fine without her, but she knew that even if they weren’t, Eliza would never let them tell her so, because if Alex thought there was a problem, she’d be turning her bike around and driving straight back to England.

She was smiling at the thought of Kara’s Rock Lizard when she glanced down at her gas gauge and noticed that she really was way too low.It had been at least forty minutes since she’d passed that Texaco station. She wanted to smack herself on the forehead. _LAST CHANCE TEXACO, you dummy. What did you think it meant?_

So when the engine sputtered and died a little while later, it came as no surprise. She got off her bike and cursed. Yanking her helmet off, with her hair sticking to her face in sweaty strands, she laid her black mesh riding jacket over the seat, and took out her phone. J’onn thought he was funny when when he said call Triple A, but now she would have to.

Only… no bars.

She’d half considered bringing her DEO-issued satellite phone, but J’onn forbade it. “You will not be taking work calls on vacation.”

Middle of nowhere, no gas, and no bars. Great.

A few cars went rolling by, and she tried to wave them down, but to no avail. She didn’t think she looked particularly threatening, but you never could tell, she supposed.

She squinted into the shimmering heat that rose up off the highway. In the distance, she could see what looked like a truck parked by the side of the road.So, left with few other options, she released the brake, and, perspiring heavily, she began pushing her bike up the highway toward the truck.

A few more cars passed her as she was pushing her bike along. She tried to stop and wave them down, but after a while, she gave up. She was obviously in a jam. If someone didn’t feel inspired to stop and help her out, they weren’t going to do it just because she waved at them.

She drew closer to the pickup truck. It was green, and a little beat-up.A woman in a wife-beater and straw hat was standing outside the flat bed, drinking a bottle of water.The flatbed was full of baskets of something. It was a roadside stand. As the truck came into still greater focus, she saw a whole load of fresh fruit and vegetables in that flatbed.

And the woman running it was built like a damn Amazon.

 _Well,_ she thought, _maybe my luck is improving._

It had taken her a solid half hour to walk up to the truck from where her bike had given up the ghost, but she’d made it. And it would be much harder for the woman to say no to helping her out because she was parked there and would have to actually talk to her.

Alex put her brake on and pushed the kickstand down, and walked up to her, smiling broadly. It wasn’t an affectation, she was genuinely thrilled to see another human, especially one who wasn’t whizzing past her at seventy miles an hour. “Hi.”

The woman gave her a polite little smile, but she seemed wary.

“Sure is a relief to see you. Been pushing my bike up this interstate since two miles back and nobody would stop for me. I’d call AAA but…”She reached into her back pocket and produced her phone, which she waved around, by way of demonstration. “...no bars.” She wiped her brow and gestured to the beat-up Ford with its bed full of produce. “Don’t suppose I could trouble you for a lift to the nearest gas station? I seem to have underestimated the distance between filling stations on this part of the highway.”

The woman hesitated. Alex didn’t see what she had to be afraid of. She was tall and bronzed and athletic and all lean muscle, and looked like she could take care of herself. She had the posture that you sometimes saw in military people, combat trained people. “I… I really don’t like to leave this spot.I haven’t sold enough for the day.”

Alex glanced at the flatbed full of produce again, and then reached into her pocket and whipped out two twenties. “Here, let me buy all those huckleberries. This should be enough, right?”

The woman scoffed. “But how would you carry them?”

Alex shrugged cheerfully. “I’ll put them in my backpack.”

It would still, she reasoned, be cheaper than getting a tow truck.

 

 

*****

 

The cab of the truck was filled with the smell of the huckleberries in Alex’s backpack. The air conditioning didn’t really work well, or at all, so the scent permeated the air.Alex found the woman a quiet, but not unpleasant traveling companion. Especially when the straw hat came off.

Alex almost gasped when she saw her face. She was beautiful. Pale, sad eyes, cheekbones for days, and lips that looked like they could use a kiss or two. And a white streak in her dark hair that looked positively rock and roll. Her heart fluttered a little.

 _OK, don’t be a fucking weirdo,_ she reminded herself, so all the way to the filling station, she contented herself with fiddling with the radio.The local stations were pretty good. Country, blues, salsa, classic rock. “Nice music selection out here,” she commented.

The woman nodded. “Yes, I find I enjoy the broadcasts. I used to have a favorite, but it seems to have gone away.”

 _What an odd way to say it,_ Alex thought, and kept looking out the windshield at the long stretch ofhighway. “What was it?”

The woman shrugged. “The music was mostly beautiful and sad. The talk was sometimes difficult to understand, but I often found it comforting.”

“Sounds like a nice program.” Alex was aware from time to time of her driver stealing glances at her. She shifted in her seat and looked back, smiling calm and steady.There was something faintly familiar about her, but Alex couldn’t place what.

“Why are you looking at me?” the woman asked.

A silence followed, filled with the mournful sounds of a Merle Haggard ballad on the radio.

“You just look familiar,” Alex finally said.

To her surprise, the woman’s tanned cheeks flushed a little.“I get that a lot,” she said.

Blushing? Alex internally did a dance. “Say, I never got your name.”

“It’s Angie.”

“Alex.”

 

 

******

 

 

So when Angie suggested that they get some lunch before gassing up Alex’s bike, Alex almost squirmed out of the window of the truck. This woman was strange, hard to read; shy, but trying to reach out, only not quite knowing how.

Normally, Alex wouldn’t know either, and would be too awkward to be of any use. But she was on vacation. She didn’t owe anyone anything. If she crashed and burned, so be it.

The diner looked like something out of 1959. It had a checkered linoleum floor, rows of pies under glass domes, and an old, blurry black and white television. They also had the little jukeboxes in the booths, and as soon as they sat down, Alex began eagerly flipping through the selections to see if they had anything good.There was nothing more recent than 2004, but that was alright.She popped a quarter in and played some Fleetwood Mac. “Gold Dust Woman” was a great song in 1977 and it was a great song now.

“I think I recognize this song,” Angie commented.

Alex grinned. “Well, doesn’t everyone?”

“It was played on the broadcast I used to listen to.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me. It’s kind of a classic.”

Angie listened quietly for a few minutes.

 

 _“Rock on ancient queen_  
Follow those who pale  
In your shadow… 

 _Rulers make bad lovers_  
You better put your kingdom up for sale  
Up for sale…”

 

“What does it mean?” Angie asked after a moment.

Alex thought. She hadn’t ever actually considered what the lyrics meant, they just sounded good to sing at the top of your lungs when riding down an open highway with the windows open. “I think it’s about trying to control everything. How you can’t. How being in control of everything isolates you and makes you a bad partner because you get too stuck in controlling, and too stuck in your own head. But I don’t know. It was the seventies and they were doing a lot of cocaine, so maybe you shouldn’t dig too deep into it, you know?” She shrugged and smiled. 

Angie looked a little confused, but gave a slight smile.

At this moment, a waitress wandered over and broke in. “Afternoon, ladies. Hi there, Angie! What can I getcha?”

“A burger, well done, and a large sweet tea, please,” Angie said with a funny kind of stiff politeness. “Thank you, Marlene.”

Alex, realizing that she hadn’t bothered looking at the menu because she’d been fiddling with the jukebox and talking about Fleetwood Mac, ordered her diner go-to: “Two eggs, over easy, wheat toast if you’ve got it, and corned beef hash, well done so that the edges are a little crispy. And a large sweet tea.” She lightly touched the back of Angie’s hand where it rested on the table. “That sweet tea sounded so good when you said it, I figured I’d better.”

She didn’t sustain the touch, but she did notice that Angie didn’t pull her hand away. They had a funny exchange about corned beef hash, which Angie apparently found strange and not to her liking because the textures bothered her.“My sister’s like that,” Alex said. “All kinds of foods she just can’t stand because of the mouth feel.”

They waited for the food, Angie stirring idly at her heavily sweetened iced tea and Alex, sensing her shyness, making light, non-invasive conversation. 

Angie suddenly asked, ”So, are you ex-military?"

Alex shook herhead. "Law enforcement."

Angie grew suddenly quiet and cast her eyes down, peering into her glass.Alex wondered what her experiences with law enforcement had been to make her clam up like that.

She gave her lunch partner a sly smile. “I’m gonna need to see a permit for the fruit and vegetable stand, ma’am.”

Angie stared at her for a moment, seeming slightly panicked, and then relaxed. So this was someone living off the grid for whatever reason."So,” Angie asked, “what kind of law enforcement, then?"

"FBI," she replied. “Nothing exciting, though. Just financial crimes division." It was one of a handful of cover stories that she reached for.Honestly, FBI was the one she used when she was trying to impress a girl. Not that she’d had the opportunity to do that in a while.

It was funny though, that Angie had picked up on her having military training. Alex noticed that Angie, despite her reticence, had a kind of physical pride in her bearing. She wondered whether Angie was ex-military herself.

"Do you enjoy your work?" Angie asked.

Alex gave her a cheerful shrug."It's alright. I don't mind it. Sometimes it's interesting, you know.I don't have a partner though, haven't for a little while now.”

"You sound lonely."

Alex’s eyebrows rose with a bit of surprise as she swirled the iced tea in her own cup. "I am, a little. My job makes it a little hard to get close to people. And I have a sister with… special needs. So it’s hard. But I have family, and a few good friends."And then she looked at Angie again, and went for broke. "And now I've got you."

“Me?”

“Well, you drove me to the gas station, and now we’re having lunch together.I’d say that makes us friends, right?”

Angie flushed a little again, and she fiddled with the paper straw wrapper on the table.

“Wait, this is my favorite trick,” Alex said, seizing the straw wrapper and twisting it around on itself over and over, until it was tightly wound. She laid the twisted-up wrapper on the table, then, with her straw, she carefully pulled a few drops of iced tea from her cup and dripped them onto the twisted-up paper.The straw wrapper began to writhe like a snake as the liquid caused it to unwind itself. Her dad had taught her that trick when she was a little girl and she hadn’t done it in years, but something in her wanted to entertain this sad, haunted soul across from her.

Angie gasped, a quiet little joyful sound.

“You’ve seen that trick before, haven’t you?”

Angie shook her head.She grabbed Alex’s straw wrapper and attempted to duplicate the experiment. To her delight, it worked just the same as before.She flagged the waitress down and asked for two glasses of water with straws, and repeated the experiment with the additional wrappers. 

“It’s the little things, isn’t it?” Alex sighed.

This probably wasn’t going to lead to anything, but she’d made someone a little bit happy for a few minutes, and that was worth something.

 

 

******

 

 

Alex wanted a piece of huckleberry pie before they left, which Marlene informed her was actually from Angie’s huckleberries.Suddenly finding the thought of riding all the way back to her bike with a backpack full of excessively fragrant huckleberries unbearable, Alex gifted the entire backpack to the diner before they departed.

Angie seemed more relaxed as they rode back, by only a few degrees, but it was noticeable nevertheless. “Thanks for bringing me to lunch,” Alex said. “Your huckleberries were delicious.”

Angie smiled at her, her eyes seeming to light up a little. “Would you like to see my farm?”

“Hell yes, I would.” 

So after they went back to Alex’s bike and gassed it up, she followed Angie back to her trailer, parked on a national parks campground, and Alex marveled at the notion that someone could live out here, like this, completely self sufficient and self contained. A scratched up, weatherbeaten, corrugated trailer with a sun-bleached awning over the door sat hunkered on the small plot, and she noticed a solar panel on the top.

Behind the trailer stood multitudes of wooden boxes with sugarsnap pea plants and stakes of yellow tomatoes, neat as rows of soldiers. The tomatoes were fat and each vine had a dozen or more.

“Boxes?” Alex wondered.“Because of the soil out here?”

“And for portability. I like having a farm I can take with me.”

"In case you have to leave in a hurry?" She knew it was a little invasive to ask that, but Alex had the growing feeling that this woman had secrets that isolated her, and she understood that position a little too well.

Angie shrugged.

She pressed a little. “So, do you need to do that often? Leave in a hurry?"

Angie shook her head."No. But you never know." 

They walked around the back to where the wooden boxes stood, and Alex spent a moment admiring everything that was growing in them."Amazing. You've really got the touch for this stuff."

"Thank you. I always wanted a garden."

Alex stroked a round, ripe yellow tomato, and without looking at Angie, asked, "So... you're not American, are you?"

"No."

"And you're not here legally, are you?"

A long silence followed.

"I don't care," Alex assured her."Believe me, immigration is not really my area.I'm just... look, I'm just saying, you can be safe with me.I have a lot of sympathy for the people who come here looking for a better life."

Astra didn't say anything.She gazed at the wide open sky past Alex's shoulder. 

Alex wanted more than anything to make her feel comfortable. ”You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to.I have secrets too, and they make it hard for me to get close to people.But if you want, it's safe."

Angie smiled.After a long quiet, without making eye contact, she asked, “Would you like to see the inside of my trailer?"

 

 

 

******

 

 

The inside of the trailer was even more madcap than the outside. The floor had been rebuilt, clearly, covered with what looked like three different kinds of linoleum. It had a fridge that didn’t match the cabinets and windows that looked like new frames had been recently welded into frames that were larger than the current windows.“Wild,” she whispered.

“It was junk,” Angie said, and Alex heard a little pride in her voice. “I got it fixed up by hand, mostly with stuff I was able to get for free or next to nothing from the junkers.”

Alex gave an impressed whistle. “I like to fix things too,” Alex said, smiling at her little glimmer of genuine enthusiasm. “I did a lot of work on my bike, actually.”

Angie smiled a little nervously.

The space was small, really meant for only one person.The closer she got, the closer Angie seemed to want her to get.

She saw Angie swallow hard, and then ask in a near whisper, “Do you… want some water?”

Alex nodded. If she was reading this wrong, god help her, but she touched Angie’s arm again and said, “Yeah, thanks, that’d be great.” Angie didn’t seem to mind it.

Angie poured two cups from a pitcher in the weird, fake-wood fridge, and they stood close in the cramped space, drinking it. Alex could see her trying not to shift and scuff her toe along the linoleum. “What are you hiding from out here?”

Angie gave her the same haunted smile. “Everything.”

“Fair enough.”

“What are you running from?”

How could she tell? She just smirked. “Everything.” She set her water down on a nearby counter surface, and traced her fingers along the white shock in Angie’s hair. She couldn’t explain why she was overwhelmed with tenderness for her, but the understanding between them was undeniable. “Is this on purpose, or were you born with it?” Angie, she noticed was looking at her with intense focus, and was definitely not pulling away.

“Born with it,” Angie whispered.

“Mutated KIT gene,” Alex murmured, “my favorite.” _Oh Jesus, shut up you fucking nerd,_ her mind began to scold her.But for a change, she decided not to listen to that voice. She tipped up on her toes, and with her heart jackrabbiting in her ears, she placed her lips softly against Angie’s. Alex’s fingers slipped into her hair and pulled her deeper into the gentle kiss, and the world outside stopped mattering. She heard Angie making soft, sweet sounds, felt Angie’s tongue brush against her lips.

Her stomach felt like it was on a ferris wheel.

Angie drew back, looking at her with the kind of longing Alex couldn’t remember seeing in anyone’s eyes. “Come to my bed?” Her voice was so small, Alex wanted to take her in her arms and carry her there.

Her obligations, her life, were still going to be there when it was over. She couldn’t give herself to someone, not someone who lived so far away, who lived like this. She had a million reasons why. “I can’t stay,” she said. She wanted her to understand. She wished she could explain.

“Better that you don’t.”

Angie pulled her the seven steps it took to reach the narrow bunk, and then sat down on the edge of it, looking up at her. Alex pulled off her tank top and sports bra, and Angie’s gaze seemed to hungrily take in every detail. Her fingers traced up Alex’s ribcage, over a pair of small, puckered bullet scars. “Bookkeeping mishap?” she inquired with a knowing little smirk.

Alex smiled. “Yeah.”

And then Angie’s head tipped forward and she kissed Alex’s stomach, nuzzled it, laid her cheek against it, spending several minutes in a kind of soft worship. Then she felt Astra’s fingers tugging at the fasteners of her jeans.She was naked in a moment, with Angie sitting in front of her, looking at her with longing and adoration.

Alex leaned down and kissed her forehead, and then tugged Angie's wife-beater up and over her head, tossing it aside while Angie took off her bra. 

Because the bed was too narrow to lay side by side, Alex wound up simply gently pushing her down onto her back and lying on top of her, feeling the hard muscle and soft skin underneath her, kissing her softly, carefully. She pulled back and lightly traced fingers down her neck, her eyes seeking permission to kiss her there. Angie nodded.

Alex had no idea what she might have been through, and she was careful to move slowly, to get permission before she moved down her body.She kissed her breasts, ribcage and stomach, admiring her athletic body. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered.

“No,” Angie said, and welled up a little.

Alex discovered a row of long, shiny scars on Angie’s hip as she peeled her out of her jeans. She traced them with soft fingertips. “Farming accident?”

Angie chuckled softly. “Yes.”

They both had secrets, and they were both lonely, but they could be that way together for a little while. It was comfort. It was relief.

Alex clambered back up the narrow bunk and settled on top of her again. After a long, deep kiss, she whispered, “I want you.”

“Alex–”

“Yes, Angie.”

“I want you to say my name.”

Alex murmured, “Angie,” in between soft kisses.

“No, that’s … that’s not really my name.”

Alex paused. “What’s your real name?”

The naked woman underneath her stared at her, wide-eyed, looking vulnerable and afraid. “Astra.”

“Astra,” Alex repeated. “It’s beautiful.”

“Alex,” she said again.

“I want to make love to you, Astra.”

“Yes.”

“I want to make you feel good, Astra.”

“Yes. Say my name some more.”

Their bodies rocked against each other in the small bed. “Astra, Astra, Astra,” she whispered over and over. It was possible that they might come together, just like this. The warmth between their bodies grew. “Astra…”

“Alex…” She gave out a soft moan and wrapped her legs around Alex’s waist.

Alex paused and looked down at her earnestly. “Astra… will you do something for me?”

Astra looked up at her, eyes glassy and full of emotion. “What is it?”

“Tell me you love me,” Alex whispered recklessly, and began rolling her hips against Astra’s again.

A bemused little smile played around Astra’s mouth. “I don’t know you.” Her body continued to respond to Alex’s.

“It’s ok. You don’t have to mean it. I just need to hear it.” Alex kissed her deeply, softly and then drew back to look at her again. “Please.”

“I…” Astra nodded.“Yes. Alright.”

Alex began to kiss down Astra’s body again, whispering her name as she moved. “Astra, Astra…” Every time she said her name, she heard a little whimper.

“Alex,” she sighed. “Alex, I … I love you.”

The words flooded her entire being. She kissed Astra’s hip bone, and then her inner thigh. “Astra,” she whispered. “Beautiful, beautiful Astra.” She looked up for permission to kiss between her thighs.

Astra nodded. “Please,” she sighed. “Yes.”

She tasted like summer.She tasted like sex. She made soft sighs, desperate little sounds, and moaned gently again, “Alex, I love you.”

Alex knew she couldn’t possibly mean it, but it was enough to hear it. She almost came. She paused in her attentions and moaned, “Astra… say it again.”

“I love you,” Astra sighed.

Alex shivered, and felt the words grip her whole body, all the way down into her sex. “Astra… come for me,” she whispered.

Astra made a keening sound.She felt close.Alex slid a finger into her, and felt her quiver inside.It was as much an emotional release for Alex as a physical one, to feel someone’s body needing hers, to feel close to someone, to be told she was loved.

“Alex… I… oh!”

And she spilled over in that familiar way, shuddering and crying out, “Alex, I love you, I love you,” over and over.

It was too much. The tension in Alex’s core broke too, and she came in sympathy with Astra’s body.She kissed until it was clear that the stimulation was too much, and then crawled up the bed again, and lay down on top of her.Astra’s eyes were wet. Alex frowned. “Are you alright?”

“Yes. It’s just been a while.”

 _I guess I’m not so bad at sex with strangers after all,_ Alex mused to herself, _it just has to be the right stranger._

They made love a few times more, drowning themselves in each others’ skin and taste and scent. Alex never wanted to leave this weird, beat-up little trailer. She wanted to stay in this woman’s arms and worship her body for the rest of her life.

 

 

******

 

 

“Where do you go after this?” Astra murmured, running her fingers through Alex’s short, dark hair. “Roswell?”

Alex yawned and nestled her head in the curve of Astra’s neck.“Nah, that place always seemed too silly to me. As if aliens who came here would have been driving actual flying saucers.”She yawned again. “No, I really wanted to see the Painted Mountains, and then after that, I don’t know what.” A long pause.“Maybe El Paso.” Another long pause. “Maybe I can even swing by here on my way back.”

Astra didn’t say anything.She just held Alex tighter.

They made love once more, soft and leisurely, and then Alex got dressed.Astra watched her reassemble herself piece by piece.They kissed a long, gentle kiss in the doorway of the trailer before Alex jumped down onto the dusty ground, and looked back up.

“It was nice meeting you.” What a woefully inadequate way to describe what had just happened.

“Yes, it was. Be safe in your travels.”

Alex gave her a long look. “You too,” she said finally.

Then she bought all of the corn in Astra’s truck, and rode away with it in her backpack.

The bike rumbled underneath her as she rode into the path of a storm cloud that hung like a giant spaceship over the desert. As the first few drops of rain spit against the visor of her helmet, she felt a few warm tears spill out.

She wondered if she ought to turn back. But she didn’t.


End file.
